


Fruit Stand

by UponPaleWings



Series: Sleep deprived works and poems [12]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anyways, Freeform, How Do I Tag, Love Poems, Original Poetry - Freeform, Original work - Freeform, Please read, Poetry, Slam Poetry, description of fruit, first person POV, i am v hungry rn, i guess its a love poem, i should order takeout, idk if u love voices i guess, inspired by a youtube comment, my family makes an apperance i guess, post studying binge writing, what voices sound like to me sometime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:40:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29162052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UponPaleWings/pseuds/UponPaleWings
Summary: The people I pass everyday, the hagglers at the market, the children at the fairground, the elders at the park, I hear their choir of voices and think: pineapple, strawberry, starfruit._______________________A poem about the voices I hear everyday around me, how they are like fruit when you talk, idk a think-piece i guess??read if u want it'll make me happy. :)
Series: Sleep deprived works and poems [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646053
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Fruit Stand

My father’s voice is sweet, with a hard undertone. A peach dripping juice on a summer day as you bite the pit on accident. 

My grandmother’s voice is joyful and stern, and when she sings it's like biting into the rough flesh of a pear, just on the cusp on being ripe.

My mother’s voice is soothing and mellow, and dances on my ears the same way an apple does on my taste buds, catching my breath on a cool autumn afternoon.

My eldest sister’s voice changes when she speaks, when she sings, when she argues. A passionfruit in tangy excitement as she talks.

My sister’s voice comes in different bursts of flavor, all the same fruit but her intonation changing with such smooth grace, that her blueberry undertone (tart sweet sour) bursts with happiness while we catch up together. 

My little brother’s voice is a full harvest when he whispers, a changing meadow when he shouts, a nursery of trees when he laughs. His dragon fruit tone teasing as we debate and compare pastimes and hobbies. 

The people I pass everyday, the hagglers at the market, the children at the fairground, the elders at the park, I hear their choir of voices and think: pineapple, strawberry, starfruit. 

I see a crowd and think: persimmon, banana, kiwi.

I read an article and think: cherry, watermelon, honeydew. 

And I wonder to myself, as I watch the cars drive by from my twilight porch;

What kind of fruit grows from my tongue?


End file.
